


Every Chance We Ever Got

by dropshipfics



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Reincarnation, They both suck at staying alive but they keep finding each other anyway, clarke always remembers those dreamy eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:37:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6882298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dropshipfics/pseuds/dropshipfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they meet the first time, she remembers his face, covered in a layer of dirt with wide brown eyes that stare at her with fear.</p><p>Your basic canon compliant reincarnation fic where Bellamy and Clarke suck at staying alive but are great at falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Chance We Ever Got

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt received from Abbygriffs:  
> "Bellarke + a reincarnation AU where Clarke always remembers Bellamy's eyes in every lifetime (because they're so damn sparkly)"

When they meet the first time, she remembers his face, covered in a layer of dirt with wide brown eyes that stare at her with fear. His small hand is curled around an apple he couldn’t pay for and a little girl with matching dark hair cowers behind a cart down the street. Clarke knows the rules and what happens to thieves but her throat seals shut and she runs back to her father. She tells her mother about it when she goes to bed that night and never sees the little boy with the pretty eyes again. 

The next time it’s him who sees her first, who takes her hand and kisses it in front of the hall full of people watching as young men of noble blood swear their lives away to protect the crown. His dark eyes glint in the light as he looks up at her through thick lashes before he stands back to his full height. Then he moves to her husband standing next to her. Bellamy dies a week later in battle protecting his princess. 

Clarke goes through three life times after that without seeing any dark eyes in person. They haunt her dreams, flickering between images of blood stained metal and struggling last breaths. She wakes up in the morning to the green eyes of her lover and thinks something is missing.

When they finally meet again, it’s in the hills of France, where Clarke dips her life in oil and pigment and never signs a thing with her real name. Bellamy stands before her, naked, the strong lines of his body surrounded by austere, heavy fabrics that contrast his loving gaze. She paints every inch of him with reverence and always saves his eyes for last. Clarke names the piece ‘homme avec des étoiles dans les yeux’ and it collects dust in a forgotten corner in Bellamy’s home after she dies in childbirth with their third daughter.

Their next encounter is brief, in the halls of an overcrowded infirmary. The heat of late August suffocated them both but it didn’t stop Clarke from staying by his side. She read to him, old stories of soldiers and enchanted beasts to distract him from his painful breaths. His skin is sickly pale and slick with sweat but his eyes are welcoming and sweet. She thinks she might have loved him as they pull the white sheet over his lifeless frame. 

The next life is a quiet one, filled with the sounds of creaky rocking chairs and spring wind dancing through chimes. Clarke wears a sundress the first time he sees her. Bellamy wears his heart on his sleeve and hopes she won’t look at him the way his mother used to. When they’re young, her stomach is round more often than not and each time he promises not to let anything happen to her. Their children have her hair and his eyes and she wonders if anything in this world has ever been so beautiful. 

Bellamy is a travelling musician and Clarke has a quick wit that lands her on her ass more often than not but this time landed her in his bed. They dig their nails into each other’s backs and press their lips to each other’s necks and hope no one can tell what they’re running from. In the morning, Clarke is gone, leaving behind a wadded up piece of paper with a lipstick stain on the bottom. _Till next time._ He’s not sure what it means but it makes butterflies stir in his stomach and the note finds a home in his wallet until it’s stolen six years later.

They get one more chance before the world ends. They mess it up.

The dropship crashes with punishing force and her whole life feels knocked off its axis. Two lifeless bodies lay at her feet but she pushes past them to get to the ladder. The commotion downstairs is loud and anxious and a deep voice calls out above the mess. Her stomach drops with panic. 

“Stop,” she says. “The air could be toxic.”

Dark eyes meet hers.

“If the air is toxic, we’re all dead anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at bellamyplake.tumblr.com


End file.
